I'll Take Care Of You
by Hellmanns
Summary: When Racetrack is wounded, Katie is there to care. Will he ever know how she feels about him?


I'll Take Care Of You  
His accident was the most taxing experience I had ever been through. I watched the whole thing - stood on the roadside and watched him run right in front of the horses, not realizing they were there. I watched the carriage swerve, collide with, and nearly land on top of him. I watched him fall, limply, to the ground - watched my dreams come within a reign's length of being obliterated.  
We brought him back to the Lodging House. Jack ran for the doctor, who was half a day's walk away. I forced myself to hope.  
"Kloppman," I said, trying my best not to sound crazed with grief, "may I take care of him until the doctor comes?"  
He just stood there, staring at the great gash on the boy's bloody forehead. He for once looked totally unprepared, like he didn't quite know what to do at all. "I.I.guess ya can," he replied, bewildered. He looked so helpless.  
"Come on, let's get him upstairs." I led the boys who were carrying him. They wore expressions of equal bewilderment, but did not look so helpless. They started heading for their bedroom. "No, no - bring him in here." I opened my own bedroom door. "He's going to need a soft bunk and privacy tonight," I explained. They carried him in and set him down on the bed. "Thank, boys," I said, trying to smile. I realized I would need more than just a bed and some sheets to nurse him out of his current state, so I gave them all jobs. "And Skitts, you bring me a cloth. Softest one we have," I ordered. Specs and KidBlink helped me get his jacket off and tuck him under the covers. "Thank you so much," I said gratefully as I released them from their duties. "I'll be sure to tell him in the morning how helpful you all have been."  
"You mean, you're gonna stay with him all night?" Blink was turning his hat in his hands. I turned my face towards the unconscious boy. "I have to stay with him," I almost whispered. "He needs me tonight." I reached for his hand, then quickly pulled back when I realized that Blink and Specs were staring at me. They caught the awkwardness and left.  
I smiled bitterly at the irony of the situation. "The first time I'm alone in a room with you, and you can't even hear me." I studied his face; the creases lining his forehead that resulted from frowning, squinting or laughing were no longer there; his eyebrows did not reveal any emotion or expression; his cheeks, which were round anyway, appeared plumper than ever because of their relaxed state; and his mouth and chin, always in constant motion, rested still for the moment. He looked so peaceful; I wouldn't have disturbed him for anything.  
"You know." I began gently. "There's something I-I have to tell you." I checked the door to see if anyone was watching. I realized I was a bit deranged to be talking to an unconscious person, but I figured since I would never have the guts to tell him when he was awake, I would say it now. I closed my eyes, reliving every moment we had ever spent together. 'Hm,' I thought to myself and him. 'I have nothing to show for those moments. For all the times I've looked at him, thought maybe he would look at me.I have absolutely nothing to show.'  
"You are," I murmured through my tears, "the one person in this place that I want desperately to get close to"- I sniffed -"and the one person I just can't seem to reach." I couldn't hold it back any longer. Placing my fingers in the circles under my eyes, I let out the sobs. "But you'll never know!" I blubbered. "You'll never know that I love you!" I buried my head in the bedspread. I stayed in that position, at my lowest of lows, when I heard something outside the door. Quickly raising my head, I saw Skittery standing outside the door with a blank look on his face. Embarrassed, I hurriedly wiped my eyes as he walked in and handed me the cloth.  
"Softest one we got," he muttered and jammed his hands in his pockets.  
"Thanks," I stumbled over the word, and grabbed the cloth, avoiding his eyes. Sitting down on the bedside again, I dipped the cloth into the bucket of water that Snipes had brought. To my surprise, Skitts stayed.  
"You stayin' with him all night, huh?" He was still standing, looking uneasy. "Don'tcha think you should get some sleep?"  
I carefully patted the boy's head with the wet cloth. The warm water felt good on my callused fingertips. "One late night won't hurt me." I dipped it. "Who else is gonna care for him? You all have to be up early tomorrow." I looked up to find him staring, looking at me knowingly.  
"Don't kid yaself. One late night? You haven't slept ten hours this week. We all heard you, especially last night." He took his hands out of his pockets and motioned towards me. "You're up all the time, cryin' - God knows what about. But we hear ya."  
Skittery never was the type to beat around the bush. I couldn't believe they could hear me - had he heard me?  
"Are you serious? You can all hear me??" Were the walls really that thin..  
His face was contorted. "O' course we can hear you - whadda you think these walls are, soundproof?" He ran a hand through his hair. "But what really matters is you're killin' yourself over somethin' - an' we can't figure out what it is."  
I had been unconsciously stroking the injured boy's arm for the past minute. I looked at the hem of my dress, hopeless. "What does it matter."  
"Oh, God. You can't be -" His eyes darted from the boy in the bed to me. "It's not him, is it?"  
'What does it matter?' I asked myself. 'Why not tell the whole world? I'm lost and gone as it is.' Finally I found the courage to meet Skitt's eyes. "What if it is?" I gulped, waiting for his reaction. Instead of blowing up or laughing like I had expected, he softened and his face relaxed completely.  
"Oh," he started, "well, is that all?"  
"What do you mean, is that all? You don't know how much pain I've gone through because of 'that', and you say 'Is that all'!!" Flushed was my face from the chin up. Tears of hurt, anger, and desperation flew to their everlasting home behind my eyes, but did not fall. I couldn't let myself start again.  
He stepped closer, remorse showing on his face. "I'm sorry," he said. He looked at the boy in the bed and let out a short, pained sigh. "God, I hope he's alright." Stopping abruptly, he turned to me with hope glimmering in his eyes. Resting his hand on top of mine (which was so uncharacteristic of Skittery; I had never seen him act this nurturing), he requested, "Take care of him, huh?" and left.  
I did not know what to think. 'Isn't he the least bit surprised that I feel this way about Race?' I rested my eyes on the prostrate victim. "Is it that obvious?" I asked him. His peaceful countenance was not disturbed. After dipping the cloth in the bucket once more, my hands found their way to his face. While one pressed the fabric to his head, attempting to clean the wound and stop the blood simultaneously, the other stroked his hair affectionately. My elbow leaned on his pillows so that my arm was cradling his head and my face was so near his that if he woke up he probably would have been crowded.  
All of a sudden he stirred. "Shh." I whispered, not caring if he woke up and felt me there. Pangs of sadness pierced my heart as I reminded myself that this was the end. After tonight, if nothing had changed, I was giving it up. Letting him go; for my own sanity if for nothing else. As for tonight, though, I would still be there, and now there was only one thing left to do; searching his now-frowning face for answers, I sat up, tenderly took his soot-stained hand in mine, and began to sing.  
  
Times are hard, and rents are high What can a working girl do? But struggle through another day, And I'll take care of you  
  
Nights are long, and dreams are cold If they're all you wake up to But should you rise with crying eyes, Then I'll take care of you  
  
The tears streamed down. If he was awake, he would be able to see he was killing me. But knowing that he didn't care, there could be no comfort in his hands.  
  
So let them talk about us Let them call us funny things; People sometimes do But, I don't care as long As you know I love you Oh, and you know I do  
  
He stirred, releasing a long, restful sigh.  
  
I'll be there, but you might not see me It's never easy to get through But when the laughter dies away, then I'll take care of you Darling..  
  
His brows released tension as the frown became a tranquil expression and he was at peace.  
  
I'll take care of you.  
  
"Hey, Katie - Katie." "Hmmm.? Wha." "Hey. It's me." "Where am I.?" "It's lunchtime." "Lunchtime?!" I threw off sleepiness and sat up. He was staring, and smiling, at me from where he stood, a large white bandage taking up space on the left side of his head. 'I guess the doctor finally got here after all.' He looked truly happy for the first time since I'd met him. I realized that I was in the bed he had been sleeping in, and didn't bother standing up. "Why didn't somebody wake me up?" I complained, rubbing my eyes.  
"Well, I didn' wanna distoib you," he responded softly. He took two steps toward the bed. "You must be real tired. Da guys told me you were wit - you were heah all night."  
"Well, I...couldn't leave you alone with that huge gash."  
He shook his head. "No, ya didn't hafta look aftah me. You coulda asked somebody else." He paused. "But ya didn't." A few more steps towards the bed. "Thanks fa that."  
I swallowed. He was so near. "You're welcome."  
"Katie." Suddenly he was kneeling down in front of me by the edge of the bed and holding my hands in his. "You were singin' to me. Last night."  
I nodded, speechless. He smiled, relieved. "So it wasn't only a dream."  
I could not get words out.  
"You don't know how much I wanted that ta be real," he added, in that raspy voice that I would know anywhere. He took one last breath and pushed himself up so his face was level with mine; his left hand stroked my cheek and his kiss landed gently on my lips. I kissed him back, leaning into him as all my fears were relieved.  
  
I woke up.  
  
It was dark in the cold room when I lifted my head. His tears were not needed; the look on Skittery's face in the doorway as he held Race's limp body was enough to tell me my dreams would never be more than fantasy.  
  
I'll be there But you might not see me It's never easy to get through But when the laughter dies away, Then I'll take care of you Darling, I'll take care..of you.  
  
End 


End file.
